Mirror Mirror
by Wind and Ashes
Summary: They don’t know how much she’s hurting…"She rocked back and forth slowly in the shadows. Her tears have long since dried yet her skin still cries tears of blood." Can she be saved? Or, like many other things in this world, will she fall into darkness
1. Tears of Blood

Mirror mirror  
On the wall  
Who's the fairest  
Of them all?  
The one in white?  
Or the one in red?  
The one who danced?  
Or the one who bled?  
Of pale white?  
Or of scarred skin?  
But did she speak?  
Did she win?  
This silent contest  
This unknown  
Protest  
  
Mirror mirror on the wall  
Who's the fairest  
Of them all  
The starving child?  
Or of the 'ugly' kind?  
The one who can see?  
Or the one who is blind?  
The one who lived?  
Or the one who died?  
  
Mirror mirror  
Judge us all  
Rise us up  
Or make us fall  
To your standards  
We want to be  
Just like the rest  
And so we bleed  
Because of you  
And your cult   
Your followers  
They make up  
The rules  
Of rulers  
The beautiful  
Controllers  
Of   
This world  
  
  
  
  
She rocked back and forth slowly in the darkness. Her tears have long since dried up, but now her soul no longer cries tears. Nor her eyes for that matter. But her skin. Her skin cries tears of blood.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
TBC 


	2. Through The Eyes Of The Blind

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"No matter how wide you open your eyes it won't help you, the point is you're looking at the wrong picture."  
  
-Wind and Ashes  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
How many cuts could she make…how much blood can collect onto the white tile? She raised the knife once more, the painted tiger decoration on the blade seemed to look back at her, daring her to continue. She stared at the dagger's edge. Marveling at its sharpness. Almost in awe of what this tool has done and can do for her.  
  
  
"I bet I could bleed more if I tried." Answering her own question, she set to work once more. Carving into her flesh. Watching the cuts well up with blood. It was almost therapeutic just to watch the deep rich color glide across her porcelain white skin. If her skin was porcelain, it looked to be broke more than one time then glued back together. But every one knew porcelain dolls couldn't bleed…did this mean she wasn't real?   
  
  
No. This pain was real, this blood was real enough for her.  
  
  
And she needed this. This ache. These scars. It was a reminder of who she was, of what she stood for. And as she drew that knife across her arm again, her mind could only think of one thing; how to make more blood come from her body so it could collect into the sink.  
  
  
Virginia Weasley looked into the mirror, a scrawny, pale, freckled face teen looked back at her. And she found it almost laughable how the only person who looked her in the eye now a days was this girl in the mirror, a girl she didn't even know any more.  
  
  
While her arm mercilessly bled into the sink, she looked at her form- no, /the girl's/ form.   
  
  
"You're still not skinny enough, God, no ones going to want you when you look like a bloody cow. Especially not Harry." She told the girl, and hoped this lost soul would take her advice, then maybe everything would start to get better. Life would be better if she was beautiful, or rich, maybe even being a tad skinnier would make all the difference.  
  
  
Her opinions to this girl continued, "And your hair…your hair is so /red/. You should cut it, just lop it all off because it's hideous you know. I'm not trying to be rude, I'm only stating the truth." The girl in the mirror lightly toyed with a few strands of her waist length hair, then let them fall back into place.  
  
  
Ginny turned to the side and sucked in her gut trying to count her ribs. All of the pretty girls in her Teen-Wizard magazines were much skinnier than her; she could almost see their ribs in the pictures. And she could most definatly see hers now, but it still wasn't good enough.   
  
  
"If you lost all of that excess baby fat, then maybe you could pass for excusable…maybe."   
  
  
She tried to pull and pinch at the skin on her hips, only to find there was barely any 'fat' there to begin with…but that's not what she saw. Never mind her hip bone was harshly visible, the only thing that mattered was when she wore clothes it would look (to her) like she'd gained a few pounds, so she had to get rid of all that weight. She just /had to/ if she wanted to go out into public, even if it was just Diagon Alley.   
  
  
Virginia leaned in close to the mirror, her nose touching the cool, smooth surface. "You'll never be good enough." she whispered.  
  
  
Some one started banging on the door. "Ginny! Come on, other people live here to!" Ron obviously had to use the lavatory.  
  
  
"I'll be out in a minute!" Yelling seemed to be the norm around The Burrow, but she really did hate raised voices.   
  
  
"Gin, get your fat arse out of there now! You've been in there all morning for Christ's sake! Mum says she wants you down stairs too! So you had better hurry!"  
  
  
Ginny was frantically running the water, trying to wash the sink clean of any evidence of blood. Then placed her arm under the tap to clean her wounds. For a moment she shut her eyes reveling in the stinging sensation.  
  
  
"GIN!" Ron slapped on the door again with his palm.  
  
  
She jumped and wiped off her arm with a towel. Looking around for blood while she scrambled to get her shirt over her head, she didn't have enough time to get her arm properly fixed.  
  
  
Virginia flung open the door confronting her brother "Alright! Alright! I'm out! Happy now?!"  
  
  
"Well it's about time! Took you long enough, didn't it?" Ron stepped inside, grabbed his Chuddly Cannons hat, then ran downstairs.   
  
  
"Stupid boy." she muttered, and made her way to her room before more blood could drip onto things. She'd taken the towel with her so she could get the stains out before throwing it into the wash, but now was using it to wipe up the extra blood that still seeped from the cuts.   
  
  
Ginny's room was rather small, but still large enough to hold everything she's ever needed. As she walked in the door she surveyed her beloved bedroom, smiling because it was /hers/, and she didn't have to share it if she didn't want to. Unlike other things under the Weasley roof this was her private sanctuary away from every one, and no one was allowed in.   
  
  
In the right corner near the door were bookshelves and a worn down, yet comfortable, chair. Her little reading corner so to speak. There were also pillows on the floor if she wanted to lie down. Next to some shelves on the right-side wall was her vanity next to her bedside table. On the left corner on the opposite side of the room were a bunch of stuffed animals, and a hope chest.   
  
  
She could still remember Fred comment about that. It had been a joyous moment her very own hope chest, but the novelty wore off when she was made fun of. It was Fred who got to her the most, making comments about how she was to small and gangly for any one to want to marry her, Ginny age 10, was devastated having not thought yet of those things. Should she have stressed over growing up, is that what other girls did at her age? She didn't know, she only had brothers, no sisters, and her mother didn't really give her any 'womanly advice'. So she'd eaten a lot, all the time. Hoping to look like the other girls who were bigger.   
  
  
Though now her new goal was the exact opposite.   
  
  
Thinner was beautiful.   
  
  
Every one else thought so.  
  
  
Trying to forget what else her brothers teased her about she stepped into her room and closed the door. Next to the pile of stuffed animals was her armoire, then her closet door next to that. Then the wall opposite of the door was were her full sized bed was placed in the far right hand corner. A row of windows sat on that very same wall, so every time you entered her room you could see the branches of a tree and part of the landscape. It let in a lot of light. Much better, she thought, than Ron's orange coated oven of a room. In fact, she'd made her room almost the exact opposite of his. The walls were a light baby blue, as was the ceiling, little hand painted fairies and butterflies were spread across her very own canvas of a wall. She loved a lot of light. And she enjoyed actual books, not just profiles on Quiditch players.  
  
  
While admiring her room she'd completely forgotten what her mother wanted down stairs.  
  
  
"VIRGINIA ANN WEASLEY! GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!"   
  
  
Ginny winced, more raised voices. The towel she had on her arm helped stop the bleeding some what but there were still a few trickled of blood here and there. First she went to a small freestanding cupboard on her bedside table, opening the two little doors she read the labels on the jars. There were vials, and small square jars, bottles, and small boxes. She picked up a cylinder shaped jar, and opened it.  
  
  
"Perfect, not to good and not to advanced." She was talking about its healing properties. She'd brewed the herbs her self and made the salve in the jar also, but didn't make it to the best of it's ability, nor did she make it that strong a healing ointment. It was so her cuts would stop bleeding, but it won't heal them completely or stop the pain.  
  
  
Perfect.  
  
  
Throwing the towel down she rubbed on some of the salve. Then wrapped her arm in a long strip of thin muslin she'd sewed together just for this purpose.   
  
  
"What can I use to cover this though?" It was a warm day for august, but still, she was wearing a baggy T-shirt and about to change into a tank top because of the temperature. Either way her arms would not be covered. She looked at the ground and saw a nylon sock. It was exactly what she needed. Picking up the sock she took a pair of scissors and cut off the very end then made a small snip in the side for her thumb. She then pulled the sock over her left forearm, the one she'd been cutting, and it reached almost up to her shoulder.   
  
  
"VIRGINIA!"  
  
  
Ginny quickly shucked off her shirt and went in search of a good tank top. But she only found a dark blue one that clung to her body. This wasn't what she wanted, she was fat enough with out showing it off to other people. But she could tell her mother would come up stairs and drag her to the kitchen by her hair if she didn't get a move on. A mother's 'war cry' was not to be trifled with. So the tank top would have to do. She pulled the shirt on and looked into the mirror of her vanity.   
  
  
Once again a hideous girl stood before her, she narrowed her eyes at her "repulsive" reflection, then sighed 'It will have to do, besides the only ones around today will be family. It might not be that bad.' These thoughts were comforting, though that comfort was short lived.   
  
  
Making sure no cuts or scars were visible, which nothing was as she decided to cut up a matching black nylon sock, she then ran down stairs to see what her mother was raging about.   
  
  
"Well /there/ you are! I was wondering when you were going to drag your self out of your room." Molly Weasley was a plump woman, with the same red hair as her children…so in her daughters eyes she was only glad she didn't look that much like her mother, not as if she was thrilled with her fathers looks either.   
  
  
At the moment Molly was cooking something, bacon, in a pan. The grease spit and cracked, the smell of food was turning her stomach. Every one was more or less seated at the table. Both of the twins who have been visiting, Ron in his beloved hat, Da, and Harry-  
  
  
Wait a minute, hold up, and rewind…Harry? Virginia did a double take, and yes indeed, Harry Potter was sitting at the kitchen table. Her hand immediately covered her stomach, and then her arms, she was trying to hide so he wouldn't see her, as pathetic as it sounded. Or at lease she could cover up parts of her body so he wouldn't noticed she was 'over weight'.  
  
  
But to her horror he looked up at her. 'Oh no! Everything I've worked for…' She was planning on looking better this year, better than the other girls, better for Harry. And now he'd seen her. He'd seen the way she looks, and with knowing that, he'd never want to be near her.   
  
  
She watched as Harry's eyes grew a bit wider as they traveled her body. 'He thinks I'm revolting.' Gin wanted to cry, then had an impulse to run back upstairs. And she did try to do so, but her mother had caught her arm, and scolded her in her usual tone, "Where do you think your going? Oh no you don't, you are going to sit down at this table and eat with the family. You've been taking your meal separately for weeks! We all need to eat together. And, incase you haven't noticed we have a /guest/." This last bit was said with some encouragement.   
  
  
Obviously it would be Molly Weasley's dream for her only daughter to marry /the/ Harry Potter. And a bit of a warning as to not screw it up, Ginny knew how to read between the lines. Her hands still crisscrossed over her stomach and every one was looking at her now. She needed to hide, to crawl back into the corner of her room with a book. But that was not an option. So Ginny went for the next best thing, she used the table to cover her body (technically) as she sat down, it was better than every one starring at her. Harry's eyes were still on her, she could feel it, and she cursed her mother for ruining her plans.   
  
  
But the worst punishment had yet to come. It's not that she didn't like her family, but they didn't know how much they've tortured her, especially as she sat there at that table. First it was the little things, Ron making comments about "teenagers today and their fashions", referring to the sox on her arms, and how she couldn't match colors ("Aren't girls 'spose to know that naturally, or something?") because she was wearing baggy olive green carpenter pants with a dark blue top. Some how, in Ron's mind, this was wrong. But she ignored it. Though after that things slowly got worse, she swore she could hear every one chewing, she watched as they ate /so much/ food. George was already having seconds on the small ham steaks. Her father, all though a wiry man, was spreading butter on his toast so thick you could barley see the bread, and then a /generous/ addition of marmalade.   
  
  
"Ginny dear? Don't you want some bacon?" Virginia watch as her mother pushed two pieces of grease dripping bacon in her mouth and chewed. She looked from the older woman's nonexistent figure, to her chubby hands, then to her flabby arms…'This is my future'…she thought she was going to be sick.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
(A/N): This is to give you an idea of Virginia's home life. Some things to notice are that she takes joking 'insults', especially from her siblings, seriously. And you know what I see missing in Anorexic!Ginny stories? Is the fact that Molly is over weight. Maybe not grossly so, but through a girls eyes who has an eating disorder Molly's "situation" would be horrific. I think that would play a big part in things. Please review as I live off of your comments ^_^  
  
  
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	3. What She Doesn't Say

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"Some times it is not the pain…it is the emptiness inside that will get you."  
  
-Wind and Ashes  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
It was very quiet in her dorm room, all the other girls were downstairs she supposed. The only thing she could hear was her own breathing, after taking a long breath she tried to still her self. At this moment of reflection she needed stillness, absolute silence. Virginia Weasley lay back on her bed thinking about many things. The car ride to platform 9 ¾, the things she'd bought at Diagon alley, all the work she was planning on doing at school…  
  
  
But particularly a certain boy, who if anything, did not have dark hair and green eyes.   
  
  
Ginny rolled over on to her stomach letting out her held breath, and grabbing a pillow to scrunch it up so she could comfortably rest her head on it. Now this situation of boys wasn't new to her, no, Ginny remembered lying around all day dreaming of some one who wasn't within her reach. Obviously it never worked out, and it probably never will….so why not do a few things with friends and boyfriends instead of wasting her life away? It sounded reasonable to her.  
  
  
But once again her mind drifted, only this time to a few days earlier. Before she'd gone to Diagon Alley, before she'd spent that night with Harry, before she'd come to this wretched school…but most importantly before she set her eyes on a charming blond.   
  
  
  
  
=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=  
  
  
  
  
She knew it was just one of those days, except it just could be left at "one of those days". Each tormenting day was unique, each insult and image of her body was ground into her skull where she could watch her shameful existence over, and over, and over. Reruns from Hell. But you could not just bunch up every day of cutting she'd had…that would be to many to count. So really it wouldn't do if you just labeled everything the same name. And more importantly, today was /now/, and not only in the present which is bad enough but today was also worse than her usual bout of self-destruction. And she needed release but not until she'd gotten out what she wanted to say…what she wanted to look back and remember.   
  
  
Her hand was shaking, and her tears blurred her vision sufficiently, but the words flowed from her onto the paper.   
  
  
She wrote what she felt. She wrote what she needed to say but could not. She wrote…  
  
  
  
  
"When you feel this emptiness…the infinite suspicion of being alone all or your life. To scared to move on…but to scared to go back. You know this is a certain point that you will remember, forever…or forget amongst the wounds needing to be healed to stop their constant ache, though there is really nothing you can do about it. But there are some things you can do, little things, harsh things…bloody things, pain filled things…  
  
  
To control something-- to have control over your self is the only thing you /can/ do…the only thing one can handle…and I do not know if I am capable of even that any more. What my life must be, so out of control, I cannot even take care of my self. I feel helpless some times…like I should just quit now. Why are we running in circles, trying to strive in this rat maze? It is like a race only we are unaware that we end up back at the beginning each time…yet still we race, always needing to be the best, the winner.  
  
  
I should just leave them, you know, let them run their races and keep their meaningless trophies for I am nothing compared. I will never be normal with the burdens that I carry. And yet I still hold no wisdom. I am jaded with no reason, no cause to be so. But truly I am still me…and that seems to be the problem…"  
  
  
  
  
Virginia slowly sank to the floor, her back against the wall, and the book fell out of her hand. The noise of it hitting her closet door and then the ground beside her seemed to almost echo in the quiet room. She wanted to curl up into a little ball, become tiny and not be seen by any one…invisible.  
  
  
'Do not cry…do not cry…don't you dare fucking cry…'  
  
  
**~But you are weak…aren't you Gin? You just want to curl up and die now, don't you? Because you are nothing, and nothing can save you because you deserve this hell. Say it now. You know it is true.~  
  
  
Ginny's voice was so small, shaking, and cracked slightly as she repeated "I deserve this."  
  
  
Her blood was cold, colder than cold, as was she. Her emotions were frozen and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She couldn't do anything right. Couldn't fix everything that was wrong. Couldn't make her family be happy with her. Couldn't make people want her the way she wants them to…the way she doesn't deserve them to…  
  
  
Some times Ginny would sit and think of all the things she hadn't accomplished…all the things she'd done wrong, screwed up on, everything she'd done to disappoint people. And a title wave of indignity and humiliation just over took her. She was shaking with grief for what she could have had if only she could have been better. She deserves this misery…this anguish that daily repeats its self.  
  
  
And for these reasons she needed to feel the pain…she needed to be tormented- punished- reminded of how she failed to be a good person.   
  
  
She needed this, as her nightmares were becoming a reality. And all she had was her knife to console her.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
Since Harry had come early to stay with them Ginny was forced to attend every meal. And it would look a tad suspicious if she didn't eat anything. The first few days her body had rejected such amounts of food no matter how small and she'd thrown up every ounce that was in her stomach, so it didn't matter much. But after a while she must have gotten used to it. Then as she was standing in front of her mirror with out clothes on she noticed, to her horror, she had gained weight.   
  
  
In reality it wasn't very much at all, her body was practically thanking her for it-- welcoming such minimal nourishment, but in her eyes it was a ghastly amount. Ginny saw her goal slipping from her grasp, and she couldn't do anything about it. She was helpless unless she just told her family she would not eat, ever. And Ginny knew they, of all people, wouldn't understand…they never understood her.   
  
  
She could no longer see her beautiful rib bones, and her hips…she didn't even want to think about her hips. It was all making her stomach turn. Why couldn't her body just cooperate for once? Over all she wanted a small body and large breasts, that was what Harry liked she supposed. That was what he and Ron like to look at in those magazines. But she could never be like those women. She tried so hard to just be better in general…but still it didn't work. It was always "to much weight" "your breasts are to small" "You hair is such an ugly shade of red" …the list was endless. Oh no, no one /ever/ said these things to her…but she knew they were thinking it. She knew how they were secretly disgusted with her appearance.   
  
  
After this discovery of weight gain she'd felt numb. She couldn't go anywhere, couldn't do anything, she mostly just slept and ate meals with the family. She didn't feel anything any more because she knew her plan of being prettier- skinnier- were now ruined.   
  
  
The only thing she felt any more was the sting of her blade.  
  
  
And that is what's kept her alive.  
  
  
  
  
  
It was the morning they were all going to visit Diagon Alley, Gin had said she wasn't hungry but after her mothers piercing look she grabbed some toast, nothing to top it with though. And just as Harry had done every chance he'd gotten while visiting, with out thinking she'd notice, he once again turned to stare at her. She could always feel his eyes on her. 'He probably pities me.' She'd think constantly. Although Ginny hadn't had to suffer all that much as she spent most her time out in the garden behind the house or in her room.  
  
  
Huddling in the chair at the table Ginny was thinking of what wretched second hand rags she'd be getting this year. Her letter informed her the required schoolbooks for this year were going to cost an arm and a leg. That and the fact she had volunteered to a teacher's assistant during her free hours. So life was going to be hell right from the start of the year, 'Joy' she thought despondently.  
  
  
She needed relief more than usual that day, but couldn't very well ask Ron to pass her the bread knife and start carving at the dining table. She needed something discreet, something that would look ordinary and not stick out very much.   
  
  
The solution came to her, surprisingly, from her mother. A flash of something shiny caught Ginny's eyes. Safety pins. "Um…mum? Can I borrow a few safety pins please?"   
  
  
"What ever for love?"  
  
  
Could a girl just get a few safety pins? "I wanted to use them to keep a hem up until I get a chance to sew it, I won't have time between now and when we leave."  
  
  
"Oh I suppose so dear, how many?" Molly took off a few safety pins from her left sleeve as she liked to have some on hand, always pinning up /something/.   
  
  
"Here you go love, will six do you?"  
  
  
"Yes, mum thanks." She forcefully gave her mother a peck on the cheek. Molly looked simply delighted at the contact, as her daughter had been so distant all summer. Ginny hadn't a clue as to why she did it…for a moment she missed being a little girl…younger, when she didn't have to worry about such things as how she was going to cut in public with out people noticing. Or calculating such things as the number of times she had to throw up to get rid of all the calories she 'indulged' in. It had been so long she almost forgot what it was like before she discovered how inadequate she was…  
  
  
But this was her fault…she would just have to find a way around things wouldn't she?  
  
  
Upstairs in her room Virginia lined the bottom of her T-shirt with five of the pins, and put one on her left sleeve so she could unhook it and scratch at her skin with her right hand any time she pleased. It was exactly what she was looking for, and it would go on unnoticed under her sleeve. Although the shirt she wore did have long sleeves it was a bit clingy and rose a bit showing her stomach, though she hadn't noticed this as she couldn't bare to look into the mirror this morning, and her jeans hung off her hips. The black shirt made her hair seem redder than it already was, and after taking a shower she had twisted her hair in clips so it now hung down in curls and waves.   
  
  
"EVERY ONE WE'RE LEAVING, NOW!" That was her mothers' booming voice. Ginny hopped off of the bed and grabbed a small shoulder bag, also black and went down stairs. Though she was delayed slightly when she bumped into Harry.   
  
  
"Oh, sorry Gin. You ok?"  
  
  
"…Yeah…fine…we should probably get going." The last thing she wanted was to be alone with him where he can continue to stare at her ugly body. He had no idea how much he hurt her with every look, reminding Ginny of how her plan -to be prettier- had failed.  
  
  
"Wait a minute." He put a hand on her arm, and she immediately recoiled. 'Please don't touch me again Harry…I don't know if I could stand it.' Though she didn't dare say those words.   
  
  
Harry looked startled at her reaction to his touch. "Yeah…maybe we should go, your mum is waiting." Ginny turned and fled down the crooked staircase. Harry, extremely confused, made a promise to watch her from now on…well more than he was. But not day dreaming, more like observing. 'Was Ginny ok?' It wasn't as if he hadn't known that little girls get over their crushes…but he was slightly offended --if not startled-- when she shrunk back from his touch like she had. Now that he thought of it Virginia wasn't the same child that ran around giving hugs to her family any more. And she looked so skinny, he figured it must have just been a trick of the eyes or something, as she seemed to be of a "normal" healthier weight now…not that half starved look she carried when he had arrived.   
  
  
Harry shook his head slightly to wake-up for a minute as Mrs.Weasley yelled for the rest of the house to get ready to flow to Diagon Alley, though the brief glimpse of Ginny's stomach didn't leave his mind. Pictures of her kept running through his head…but he didn't know if it was just concern for her…or lust.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Ginny absolutely hated flowing anywhere. Not only was she now covered in soot, but the fact that the soot was gray and her shirt black made it all the more worse. She must have looked a fright. Her mind started working up all the stories she knew the people were whispering. She knew they were looking at her…talking about how she must look. She could barely stand the feeling of the eyes she 'knew' where staring at her dirty condition.  
  
  
"Daddy? Please, can you get this soot off of me?" She tried not to sound like 5 year old, though couldn't help but add a bit of a whining tone.  
  
  
"Of course poppet."  
  
  
In a matter of seconds the soot was gone.   
  
  
"Thanks."  
  
  
Better…but still the thought of what had happened in the first place made her stomach sink. Her right hand twitched slightly, though she hadn't noticed. Soon her hand had reached up and unhooked the safety pin, running it up and down her arm-then a bit faster, some times driving the pin straight into her arm. The delicious pain stung her, and she would have gasped or moaned if they weren't in such a public place not to mention in front of her family…that would seem a bit too odd O.o  
  
  
When every one had set a time to meet back at the Diagon entrance to The Leaky Cauldron they split up and went their separate ways, Ron and Harry together of course looking for Hermione. But her father held her back momentarily. And handed a small pouch. She gasped as she saw what it contained, /money/.   
  
  
"Go buy something special poppet, we can afford it, don't worry." He kissed the top of her head, she was too distracted to flinch, and was gone. Maybe this was going to be an ok morning after all. Her right hand had relaxed no long wanting something to do.   
  
  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
  
  
'I wonder how many of these feather brains actually are worth anything', he thought. Draco Malfoy was looking for a new owl; his old one had…an unfortunate accident with his wand.   
  
  
So here he was poking at the unanimated balls of feathers. They'd only hoot loudly and go back to sleep.   
  
  
He didn't even really want a bloody owl, what was the use? He never wrote any one, and if it was a letter from home he always sent notes back with the owl it came with. So honestly what was the point? Maybe he'd get a cat, at least he could experiment on it a bit with out it trying to fly away every chance it got. Thoughts of what the cat would do if he burnt its whiskers flooded his mind…yes, he'd prefer a cat much more.   
  
  
Leaving the owlry with a few loud complaints about quality, he then walked down Diagon Alley looking around at the various shops. The crowd parted for him, but like everything else that was a privilege of being a Malfoy, he didn't even notice it let alone care.   
  
  
A few stores distracted him on his way to the pet shop, for instance the quidditch supply outlets which were abundant through out the alley seemed to have caught his eye immediately and a quick stop to get some ice cream. But finally when he did get to the Madame Ada's Magical Pet Menagerie he was thankful for the delay, with out it he might have missed /her/.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
He saw her also looking at cats, her red hair was what caught his eye.  
  
  
They talked about many little things. What they were doing there, looking for. who they'd come with. And so on. She was very cute with a somewhat…gothic look to her. Though not over done. And even though he was raised to be polite, act properly and give respect to others he couldn't help but let his eyes trail over her body lingering at her exposed midriff and breast. He was a teenager after all…  
  
  
But something else caught his eye.  
  
  
Draco suddenly, but gently, took her wrist and lifted it up to look. "Hold still, you're bleeding", he said. Ginny hadn't felt the droplets of blood drip down, she should have been more careful. But now it was too late. Being distracted by him had cost Ginny her secret.   
  
  
Her body tensed, but she felt like she could not move regardless of what she wanted. For a moment it was like she was watching what was happening from a place out side her body. In her minds eye she saw her self screaming, yelling for him to stop, to just let her go. But that was only what she wanted to do. She felt pulled in two directions. Feeling paralyzed, just watching from an outside vantage point every thing that was happening. But at the same time she felt very much in her body and very much /alive/ at his touch. There was a spark; the air was thicker with a crackle of energy. Though the boy didn't seem to notice it.  
  
  
In general she wasn't used to contact…she hadn't really even been hugged or held in what seemed like years…it probably had been years. But this new found contact, and the gentleness of his touch was startling. Against her own will, and to the embarrassment of her self as she looked back on it, she whimpered. It was very small, for a second he thought she hadn't even made a sound.  
  
  
He looked up momentarily from her wounds and looked her right in the eye. Another thing she hadn't done in a long while, to really look some one in the eye.  
  
  
"It'll be ok, I promise." For a second his eyes weren't such a harsh gray, but it soon faded as he led her to the back of the store. No shopkeeper was there to stop them so she figured it was all right.   
  
  
"I'm not allowed to do magic on break, other wise I would use my wand." He said while still holding her hand and gently leading her to some where, she really had no idea as to where though. Finny behind the front desk and a few cages she saw why he'd taken here. There was a sink where she could wash up and rid herself of the blood that had practically covered her arm in a short amount of time. She must have reopened a few of the recent cuts, not only the stab wounds from the safety pins but also the lacerations.   
  
  
"Thank you."  
  
  
"No problem."  
  
  
She did get all that blood off and he even helped to make a poor bandage out of paper towel. He had seen the safety pin and old wounds healed over…but he didn't comment, he only tried not to stare.   
  
  
After everything was cleaned up Draco casually mentioned on how she should try and not get so close to the cages next time. Her reply was a mumbled "Yeah, sure." He knew what they were, but didn't want to embarrass the girl, or make her feel like she needed to give a reason or panic.   
  
  
After a beat of awkward silence Ginny quickly said, "I should probably go. My family is waiting."  
  
  
He could see she was uncomfortable, "Yes, yes of course."  
  
  
She bit her lip and she backed away slightly, almost looking like she'd wanted to stay…but then turned and bolted out of the shop. Through the window he saw her greet another red headed child. And what a shock was when he saw it was Ron The Weasel…so this little girl was just full of surprises. As she walked off Draco was also surprised one more time to find out he really didn't care who she was.  
  
  
Yes he was very glad he'd come in when he did, but for more of a reason than just meeting a pretty girl. He touched his right arm with out really thinking, tracing patterns of things not many had ever seen. She was like him…  
  
  
  
  
  
=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=  
  
  
  
  
  
Back in the present, during her little time trip, her roommates had come upstairs and started to riffling through their belongings and giggle at whatever the other airhead said. Ginny sighed in frustration she yanked the curtains around her bed closed. And at hearing their comments about 'how moody she was' she cast a silencing spell.   
  
  
The tears came later, but not much later. It was just so damn…/hard/. One would think trying not to cry about how miserable your life was would be to easy compared to other things…when really it wasn't.  
  
  
What she really wanted was to be with that blond boy, he even tried to be nice about everything with making up that excuse for her so she wouldn't have to. She knew he knew, Ginny could see recognition in his eyes. But she didn't mind it at all. She wanted to come right out and tell him…but wouldn't know where to begin. Though it's not as if she knew he really cared about /why/ she did it. Ginny chuckled, it's very ironic the one time she could have really had Harry Potter she did not want him…and that also another boy should show up to take his place.  
  
  
*Some people she knew had trouble with faith, and God, or in her case The Goddess. But some times…on one of those days she couldn't handle how things had taken their course…she wondered if The Great Spirit or the Higher Being of what ever kind, was really around. It seemed at times she was abandoned by every one, even her God and Goddess. Or maybe they were there-- watching all of the humans stumble around like they are in the dark and laughing when they knocked heads together, humans lives were just godly entertainment…because honestly that's all that her life is…just one big dark room. Not really knowing where she's supposed to be, where to go, or how to get there. And if she one day does know, it's just an allusion she'd probably made up he self to believe in.  
  
  
  
"From fantasy, to reality, memories, and to the meaning of life…and all in one day Ginny, I think you have filled you quota for rational thought". With a wry smile she crawled under the covers of her bed and with a flick of her wand the candles on the headboard extinguished them selves.  
  
  
  
  
  
That night she dreamed of many things. But only one specific dream had stayed with her till morning and she would never forget that mental image, which was her body intertwined with the blond boy she'd met that afternoon a while ago. His movements on top of her and between her legs were quick and rough. And she could almost feel him inside her; the dream was so vivid. But what really caught her eye was the blood. The blood that seeped from deep cuts in her arms, sides and stomach and that seeped from him as well. A knife she'd never seen before lay on the bed close beside them as they made love…  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
(A/N): THANK YOU TheRowlingPierceWriter, VirtualFaerie (by the way I'm a big fan!), Turquoisetears, Luinthoron (as always, thank you /very/ much so), Blu Ice, Lain, Lyss (are you extremely perceptive…or was I just kind of obvious…?), and Ditzy Spacecadets!   
  
*I really never like to intentional bring religion into any of my stories. But if you've known some one with depression or had it your self, you'll know that this question of faith/religion/how every thing works and why can come up a lot. But don't worry, there won't be any more religious discussion in here.  
**Note: Gin is not crazy. This is not some skitzo voice in her head, k? It is more like she's talking to her self, reassuring her self everything bad is happening to her for a reason.  
  
ADVERTISING: If you like my poetry/quotes I suggest you go check my accounts out on FictionPress.net (Names: Glowing Embers, cat-eyed-gypsy, Wind and Ashes). And also go see my new story under Glowing Embers, Title "It's in the cards" another D/G and yes I've already scolded my self for starting another fic *looks guilty*  
  
…It seems these notes get longer every time, no?  
  
  
p.s.: I'm against animal cruelty, I'm vegan, a volunteer for peta, and local pet shelters. I added Draco's cat cruelty in as...well, I'm not sure. trying to keep him in character I guess. I needed him to be evil for a minute or two. Any one who does that to a cat deservs to be shot. And you know what? I know how to work a gun...do not tempt me...  
  
  
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